


You asked me why I love you

by ASingleMind



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Hugo's Perspective, Love Confessions, M/M, POV First Person, Swearing, post 7K AU events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23991592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASingleMind/pseuds/ASingleMind
Summary: You asked me why I love you. And I said “I don’t know”. And I could tell you were disappointed with that answer, so I carried on, predicting that I would fuck it up.(In which, Hugo realizes not why, but how he loves Varian)
Relationships: Hugo/Varian (Disney: Varian and the Seven Kingdoms), Varigo - Freeform - Relationship, varigo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	You asked me why I love you

**Author's Note:**

> My muse demanded I try to write something with the sheer audacity to get on by on simultaneous external and internal monologue, and not much else.
> 
> Note: if you're a speed reader, I'd recommend slowing down a bit for this one. Blink, and you'll miss a lot.

You asked me why I love you. And I said “I don’t know”. And I could tell you were disappointed with that answer, so I carried on, knowing that I would fuck it up.

I said, “I mean, I’ve loved a lot of people in my life.” Or at least I thought I had. “I wrote a lot of them off when they left, or when I left them.” Because that meant it couldn’t be love to begin with. And I was never in it for love, so that was fine.

“I thought I was so fucking smart when you met me.” You were just like all of those rich prats I used to play with. Didn’t know shit about people, or the world.

“When I was nineteen, I finally started to feel like a real person.” I invented myself everyday. “Kept the kind of secrets real people keep, told the kind of lies real people tell.” And most exciting of all, I loved like I thought real people loved. Never really staying anywhere, in perpetual motion. I fucked around, taking as much as I could handle (and more).

“I thought I was dark, and mysterious and fucking irresistible.” You chuckled at that. “Now I look back at me and think, ‘ _what a dick’_ ”. Treating relationships like a revolving door of sex and alcohol. Taking it all in and throwing it up and running away.

“And I’m not nineteen-year-old me anymore, but I’m still me.”

I had built myself from the ground up. And what I made was fucking _asshole._

“I still want to run away sometimes. A lot of times actually. I’m always surprised to see you there when I wake up, sleeping beside me.” I was so sure you’d see through me.

You had no right to be that good at alchemy and science, growing up in the back waters of Corona. I thought I had started with nothing, so I carved out pieces of the world that I could experiment with. You took those pieces and made something whole.

“Part of me wants to run in that way I used to run.” Crawling away in the morning, feeling so fucking proud of myself. “Diving into another project, working until I could feel my brains leaking out of my ears. Getting high, or drunk when I thought I couldn’t handle it anymore. Hoping it still made sense when I sobered up. I—”

You gave me a look.

“Fuck, sorry.”

I never knew when to shut up, did I?

“You asked me a direct question.” The kind of question I never liked. The kind you always asked. “I guess I’m scared that this will all fall apart. That I’ll wake up,” lying on the floor of my grimy apartment turned workshop, “and realize that I was imagining all of this. I know that doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

It doesn’t, because I test for it everyday.

“I’m afraid these are my last thoughts, because I half-assed my lab safety, and this is the coma dream before my body finally shuts off.” I was pulling on the side of my head that still has hair, when you took my hand.

“And most of all I’m scared that this is all real, that I’m sane, and that means I have to _live._ Because then what excuse do I have?” Treating people liked botched experiments.

“And that’s where you come in.” I looked at you then, really looked at you, as if on cue.

“I couldn’t figure out why I liked you. It went against everything I stood for. Do the job, do it so well they don’t think twice, and most of all, _don’t get attached._ Because that was a risk I couldn’t afford, a part of the equation I didn’t know how to account for.”

“I picked it apart, over and over. I isolated each part of your make-up, wondering why. Looking for an answer, a conclusion that fixed all the inconsistencies.”

Your hands, marred by mistakes, by grief, by anger, always managed to grab a hold of me.

“You taught me that people, that love, aren’t problems to be solved. That at the end of the day, we’re all questions without answers, and some of us should stay that way.”

“So I can tell you…” Your eyes were always so bright. “I love you because I have to. There is no why about it. Any more than there is a reason why the world was designed so water vapour gathers in the sky.” You always managed a smile for me.

“There is a how though. Maybe if I tinkered around a bit, I’d find something more to tell you. But then it would be answered, and there would be nothing left to discover. And where’s the fun in that?” I lived to hear you laugh.

“But right now I just want to let it _be._ Lay around in bed together, find new solutions together, make schemes together, teach the world all there is to know, and try not to keep secrets from each other. And then fuck each other senseless when its all over.” I probably deserved that pillow in my face.

“I just…enjoy being around you. You changed something in me, something that I would have never let happen. I want to keeping finding reasons, every day for the rest of my life.”

You seemed surprised. You wondered if that was really enough for me. I think, maybe, that you wondered if _you_ could be enough for someone like me.

“I’m not going anywhere this time, love. I’m never going to be through with making things up to you. And I’m done running.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, thoughts? I realize POV First Person is not everyone's cup of tea. I normally avoid fics written in it myself.


End file.
